Break free from the Monotonous
by Spiral81
Summary: A young Byakuran who is bored and decided to kill. Can he be saved? By who?
1. Chapter 1: Act 1

Am I content with the way things are?

Byakuran

The streets are always drenched with some type of stain.

It is always covered in dirt and bacteria

but the most disgusting stain would be blood

because there is no ground that is free from the red liquid

that flows within every living being besides the plants.

I noticed a dead body on the ground

Its blood slowly leaving its owners body

I just left my middle school about have an hour ago and was on my way home.

I have always been a good kid.

I followed the rules and tried to live a good life and so far I did

but am I content with that?

I poked the dead body curiously.

I wonder how I'll feel if I decapitate him and so I did.

I had no knife so I used my fingernails.

His throat ripped apart and hot blood squirted onto my face, though I kept going.

Until the head is separate from the body.

I held the head so it would face me.

His blood sprinkled to the floor.

See? No ground is free from the red liquid. I wonder,

What led to the death of this man?

I tossed the head over my shoulder and walked home still drenched in the blood

of the dead body I just decapitated.


	2. Chapter 2

Byakuran

I entered through the back door of my home for no reason today. Mother didn't notice I was in the house because she's always expecting me to enter through the front. She kept looking at the door to see if I would come through and I could have saved her the trouble by announcing that I was home but I kept watching her for a few moments. She would chop some type of vegetable – today was carrots – and then she would stop, check the front door and continue chopping. Boring.

"Hello mother." I stepped into the kitchen. _Surprise. _She dropped the kitchen knife and let out a soft cry. "Oh! Byakuran. You scared mommy." She picked up the knife and set it aside. "I thought you would…"

"I know." I smiled at her. The kind of sad smile someone gives while petting a homeless puppy. "Thought I would come from the back this time." I went past her to open the cupboard and pulled out a bag of marshmallows. I nibbled. Mother continued chopping carrots. "Well next time come in through the front. I don't like you coming from the back." She tossed the carrots into a pot, adjusted the heat and placed the top back on. She turned to face me and what I saw were giant tear drops falling down her cheeks. "You know mommy doesn't like surprises."

I do know that. I set the marshmallows aside. My appetites ruined but I played the good son. I hugged her. "Mother, it's alright." I patted her messy hair down. "Everything's going to be alright." And then we did what we usually do when I come home and she's done cooking – we eat. We don't talk. After I clean up, mother would go do laundry and I would go to my room but this time I asked her, "May I help you with the laundry?" She looked at me with a dazed expression then she nodded her head.

After folding my dried shirts, I noticed a small stain on mother's white blouse. She hadn't noticed the stain as she folds the blouse. I'm tired of her not noticing important things. Like the time I didn't get good grades (I then purposely failed on occasions but of course she didn't notice) or when I told her that garbage day changed to Tuesdays instead of the usual Sundays but she continued to put out the garbage bin on Sunday mornings. I had to bring the bin to the backyard and then take it out on Tuesdays. Such a hassle.

Coldly looking at mother now, I snatched the blouse from her hand. "It has a stain." Her eyes clouded in confusion so I pointed to the spot. "Right here." But mother wasn't looking at her blouse instead she grabbed my wrist, turning my hand so that she could see my palm. And the faded but still quite there red stain. _I thought I had washed away all the blood. _

She made a small noise at the back of her throat like the squeak of a mouse. "How?" _She decides to care now?_

I pulled free and walked to the kitchen sink. "It's nothing mother." She followed behind: face creased in worry. I turned on the faucet, grabbed the soap and scrubbed the blood away. "I held an injured bird and its blood must have stained me." A lie to go with that stain. Because everything in this world has stains on top of stains on top of stains. Twisting my lips into a bitter grimace, I continued to scrub my hands until my flesh began to turn red. Mother took the scrub away. "Stop that! You'll bleed."

"Mother…do you think that if father hadn't left us- hadn't left you- would you have cared more for me?" I've had enough and I been dying to know the answer to _that_ question. I turned the faucet off, letting the drops of lingering water drip down to make a ping sound like if it were counting the seconds until mother responded back. Surely, she is stunned to hear this. Like she said, she doesn't like surprises.

"Why would you say such a thing?" she responded, each word laced with a slowness as if she is unsure. I lowered my head to hide my narrow eyes. _Time to break free from the monotonous. _

I was looking at mother now, my lips spread to a thin superficial grin and that's when she saw the hammer as I brought it down her head.


End file.
